On days like this, where it seems my hope is running low,

like fuel in a tank

with no places to go,

cinder blocks, in prison cells start to blow

working out the kinks down in my soul

Hope is for the featherless

no tethering ring pole,

sowing seeds of hope

germinating little

pods of things unseen

Hope for the family

every sister, every brother

every cousin, every mother

Hope for the growing up

Hope for the growing old

Hope springing out like lavender – wonders to unfold

Hope ripples out like waterfalls reaching into soul,

grander church bells, she even sings her chimes

Spring in the air,

Spring is in the air, its’ time!

your Kindness sister Krissy